


you know I'm on my way (please meet me there)

by anniebibananie (alindy)



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 11:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11401647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alindy/pseuds/anniebibananie
Summary: Rosaline was getting a little tired of having to parent her drunk friends, especially when she had to do it beside Benvolio Montague.





	you know I'm on my way (please meet me there)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 4th!! This is my first time writing rosaline/benvolio, so I would love your thoughts!!! I apologize if this feels out of character, I'm still getting used to writing them.

Rosaline really wished her friends would realize she was _not_ their mother.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like to help, because she did, but she was getting a little tired of holding back Livia or Juliet’s hair while they puked. At least Isabella had the sensibility to maintain composure while under the influence of alcohol, the rest of them were chaos. Escalus liked to get in heavy political debate with strangers, Mercutio liked to dance on any surface possible, and Rosaline wasn’t entirely sure she could handle all of it anymore.

That, and she was really tired of being co-parents with Benvolio Montague.

“Romeo, come on,” Benvolio said with a sigh, rubbing a hand down his face.

Rosaline had showed up at Isabella and Escalus’s apartment twenty minutes ago after receiving a strange text from Juliet about how pretty her hair was, setting down the textbook she had been taking notes from for her essay, and heading over. It seemed Benvolio must have been in a similar situation if his sweatshirt and messy hair was anything to go by.

“You guys don’t always have to _show_ up,” Romeo said as he finally pushed himself up off of the ground.

Benvolio must have not realized Rosaline was behind him (she had just returned from convincing Mercutio that sleeping in the tub was, in fact, _not_ a good idea) because his eyebrows pushed together as he turned and saw her. He rolled his eyes, and she glared, unsure of what she had ever done.

It wasn’t like she enjoyed his company any more than the reverse. He shouldn’t get to be the only one annoyed.

“You were laying next to the oven because you said it smelled like the pizza you made earlier,” he said. “Pretty sure we do.”

Rosaline took the initiative, stepping forward and grabbing Romeo’s arm to guide him away from the kitchen and to the couch. Benvolio trailed behind with a huff, annoyed that he had been overpassed.

“Can’t I sleep with Juliet? Where did she go off to?” he asked, whipping his head around.

“No,” Rosaline said as she pushed him down into the couch. “It already took too long to get her, Livia, and Isabella to lay down in bed. You are staying here and living with your poor choices.”

“Can I have a bedtime story?” Romeo asked.

Benvolio shared a look with Rosaline, both of them tired and on the edge of delirious. Such an innocent request was almost hilarious. He stepped forward and spread the blanket over Romeo, and that was all it took for him to fall fast asleep. Crisis averted. 

“Were you working on that Economics essay?” Benvolio asked as he grabbed his keys from the counter. She balked, and he rolled his eyes. “I pay attention sometimes when you talk. It’s a shock, I know, but I bear through it.”

She nodded, though not without a small grumble. She just didn’t understand why he had to be so _infuriating._ Maybe some day he would talk to her without being contrary, she decided. Until then she was just going to have to deal with the fact that it was hard to be in the same room as him about 80% of the time.

“Clearly you had too much going on to party with them, too?” she asked. It was the closest to civil she could manage. They walked cautiously out of the apartment, as if any small sound might wake all of their friends up just to have them fall back into chaos.

Benvolio shut the door softly behind them. “I was going to join them, but inspiration struck. I finally think I fell onto a good final art project.”

Now that he had mentioned it, she could see the streaks of blue paint lining his arm where his shirt was pushed up. His eyes caught her looking, and she shifted them back front as they descended the stairs.

“You need a ride home, Capulet?”

She rolled her eyes. “I live only a few blocks over. I can walk.”

His eyebrows pushed together. “It’s late at night. You can’t seriously feel safe walking home alone?”

Rosaline thought it over, and, though she didn’t actually feel all that secure walking home at this hour, she also wasn’t certain she wanted to walk home with Benvolio Montague. It was a commitment she just wasn’t sure she could make, not when the smirk he was sending her right then as they exited the building and their steps stopped made her fingers twitch.

“I can handle myself,” she said, turning away and beginning her walk home.

Benvolio jogged a little behind her, catching up and matching her pace. “I never doubted that. Just thought you could use the backup.”

She stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. A small puff left her lips before she nodded for him to follow. “Fine, but we aren’t going to _talk_.”

* * *

**_Unknown Number_ **

Are you going to the bar to

celebrate Isabella’s new job tonight?

 

**Rosaline:**

Who is this??

 

**_Unknown Number:_ **

Oh come on I’m wounded, Capulet.

 

**_Contact added: That Asshole_ **

 

**Rosaline:**

Tell me who gave you my number

so I can hunt them down.

 

**That Asshole:**

I just need to make sure I have support

for when our kids go fucking crazy.

 

**Rosaline:**

You enjoy that joke too much.

 

**That Asshole:**

So I’ll see you tonight?

 

**Rosaline:**

Fine.

* * *

“If I buy you a shot, will you take it with me?” Isabella offered with a waggle of her eyebrows. Rosaline wasn’t sure how she managed to make the gesture look so dignified, but she did.

“The key to not getting so wasted you puke in bathrooms? No shots,” Rosaline said as she shook her head. “And a lot of water.”

A hand grazed over her back, and Rosaline twisted to see who was now pressed up against her in the limited bar space. “I’ll do a shot with you,” Benvolio said. “Just in the name of keeping you from offering that shot to Romeo or Juliet. They’re sloppily making out on the dance floor right now, it’s really for the best if that doesn’t escalate any further.”

Isabella tapped the bar as she twisted to get the bartender’s attention. In the silence, Benvolio shot Rosaline a grin filled with far too much enthusiasm, if you asked her.

“I thought you said you needed help tonight. How are you planning on keeping them all tame if you’re drunk?” She arched her right eyebrow and followed with a sip of her beer.

“Unlike you, fair Capulet, _I_ can hold my liquor.”

Rosaline’s mouth was perched open to argue, but before she could get a word in Isabella turned back around with the shot. As the two of them flung the alcohol down their throats, Mercutio appeared out of nowhere.

“Escalus is debating some hella burly dude on the health care system,” Mercutio said. “It’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Isabella rolled her eyes. “He would.”

Rosaline let her eyes trail over the crowd, spotting him easily. The old love she used to feel didn’t sit there anymore, replaced with the fondness of friendship. She was so happy she still had him in her life, that the two of them were able to slip back into the familiarity of being friends, even if it was more detached than it used to have been.

Romeo and Juliet had stopped kissing, Rosaline noticed as she kept her eyes roaming. They danced with ridiculous vigor, but she couldn’t exactly get _mad_ at them about that. _Judge_ , maybe, but they looked so happy as they did it she wasn’t sure she could even do that.

“Where’s my sister?” she finally asked as her eyes came up empty.

Mercutio humphed. “Look across the bar. She always gets the good ones.”

All their eyes snapped to where he motioned, and Rosaline surveyed the man chatting Livia up with suspicion. He looked too _pretty_ , she decided. Not at all Rosaline’s type—she liked to know someone could get their hands dirty, when it came down to it—but clearly he was Livia’s type if her boisterous laugh was anything to go by.

“Down tiger,” Benvolio whispered as he bent toward her. “Stay out of it.”

Rosaline’s eyes narrowed, and she made sure he saw the look. He looked good tonight, she noticed as she she shifted her gaze to him. Just a black tee shirt and dark jeans, but nice and cleaned up. She shook the thought out of her head, remembering the conversation at hand.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Don’t do stupid things that will just get you and your sister into a fight for no reason.”

She sighed. Even worse than when Benvolio was contrary, was when he was _right_ about something.

“I’m going to need another beer.” The empty glass slammed against the bar top.

“You sure you don’t want a shot?” Isabella asked, and Benvolio joined in with a peevish smile.

It almost made her want to say yes. 

* * *

**That Asshole:**

Did you make it home alright?

No puke on your jeans?

 

**Rosaline:**

No puke.

You?

 

**That Asshole:**

Mercutio wants a cat now,

can you tell him no for me?

 

**Rosaline:**

I’m not actually his mother,

you know that, right?

 

**That Asshole:**

pleeeeease???

 

**Rosaline:**

I’ll see what I can do

 

**That Asshole:**

What in the world would I do without you?

 

**Rosaline:**

Survive just fine.

 

**That Asshole:**

Meh, debateable.

 

**_Contact Changed: Benvolio Montague_ **

* * *

Rosaline was in the middle of an honest to god _breakthrough_ when her phone blared. Her hand reached for it without a thought and picked it up, bringing it to her ear. “What?” she barked.

“Darling, is that any way to talk to your husband?”

Sighing, Rosaline slid her computer to the side. “What do you want? I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

Something loud clattered on the other side of the line, and Benvolio muttered an expletive underneath his breath. “Please, I need reinforcements.”

Her eyes snapped shut. There was no way she was going over to Benvolio and Mercutio’s apartment. Not only was she actually getting somewhere in her writing tonight, but she had no desire to see the shit show that was happening over there. A glass of wine, her laptop, and some soft acoustic music in the background—it was a perfect evening.

“You can handle Mercutio on your own, you’ve been doing it your whole life.”

Benvolio groaned. “Yeah, I can handle Mercutio on my own, but not _everyone else._ ”

Rosaline perked up. “Everyone? I didn’t know everyone was hanging out tonight.” For a moment, she felt a pang of loneliness take her over, but she remembered that she was happy like this.

“Capulet, I was there when they invited you. Do you not remember Juliet talking about wanting to meet Paris?”

Rosaline squinted and tipped her head back, almost like the memory would slip back into place. The last week had been stressful, and every time she hadn’t been studying, her mind had pretty much been thinking about studying. It didn’t surprise her that the invitation had completely flew over her head.

“Paris is there?”

“Yeah. And honestly, I like your sister, I do, but her boyfriend makes me want to light myself on fire. I need you, Rosaline, or I will be forced to drink copious amounts of alcohol.”

Rosaline hit her head against the couch. She wished his voice hadn’t sounded so soft when he said her name. “Fine. I’ll be there soon.” She didn’t wait for a goodbye before clicking the phone shut.

* * *

Paris was fine, and clearly Livia was smitten with him, but Rosaline could see how he got on Benvolio’s nerves. The two boys clashed; it was a friendly clashing, nothing too ferocious, but Rosaline sensed it the moment she walked in. Benvolio was in the kitchen, angrily sipping a beer. Paris clearly wasn’t going anywhere, she thought, so she hoped Benvolio worked it out.

“I like him,” Rosaline whispered to Livia a few hours later as they were heading out. Her sister beamed, and she felt warm as Livia gave her an excited kiss to the cheek.

Most of everyone else was able to slip away after that, the alcohol only clouding their judgement slightly. Rosaline had switched to water after two beers, while most of everyone else hadn’t, though she was glad to find it wasn’t that bad. The only problem was Romeo. Who, in a fashion that Rosaline was getting far too used to for her own liking, was refusing to listen to reason. For a guy who was usually so smart, he almost turned into a petulant child when alcohol was involved.

“Please at least put some food into your body,” Rosaline stated. “You can leave as soon as Juliet gets out of the bathroom, but until then just eat the damn crackers.”

“Da _aaad_ ,” Romeo whined as he took the box. “You’re always so demanding.”

Benvolio held up a hand in protest, his wide eyes. “Hold up, _she’s_ dad?”

“It just makes sense.” Romeo shrugged while his mouth was filled with crackers. They crunched loudly in his mouth.

Rosaline smirked, arms crossed, as she eyed Benvolio with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry, _mom_. Our kids don’t play favorites.”

“This joke used to be funnier,” he said as he ran a hand down his face.

Despite the fact that Rosaline was tired, and she really wished she could have spent the night in front of her laptop, she laughed hard and fast. The look of surprise on Benvolio’s face only made her laugh harder, so that when Juliet finally came out of the bathroom the scene in front of her was bizarre. Rosaline laughing hysterically with Benvolio joining in, Romeo in between them with crackers stuffed into his puffy cheeks.

“I’m taking my boyfriend home,” she said as her eyebrows pushed together, “because I truly must be drunk to hallucinate this.”

The door shut behind the couple and then it was just Rosaline and Benvolio, suddenly unsure what to do with themselves without the presence of their friends surrounding them.

“I should probably head home,” Rosaline said, though she wasn’t all that sure she wanted to. Her body was beyond tired, and the trek back to her apartment felt like an eternity.

For a second it surprised her that she considered Benvolio’s company better than the struggle of going home (there was a time in the not far past where that would not have been true), but she shrugged it off before she could think too long on it.

He shrugged. “It’s late, and an Uber is going to cost so much. You can stay here, if you want.”

Her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to find the secret hiding in his plan. It was clear he had picked up on it, because he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Capulet. You can even sleep in my bed, that's how much of a gentleman I am.”

The room stalled as she thought it over, her eyes still trained suspiciously on him, before her shoulders dropped and her face smoothed. “You aren’t going to try anything, are you? Because I assure you that will end very badly for you.”

“I was going to offer to sleep on the couch,” he said.

Her hand clasped on his wrist, tugging him behind her. “It’s fine. We’re adults. Just don’t try to spoon or something, I need my space.”

“No spooning.” She could feel him nod behind her. “Got it.”

* * *

**Benvolio:**

Mercutio said you almost barrelled over

him this morning to get to coffee.

Then he asked me how you were in bed.

 

**Rosaline:**

Honestly not my problem he wouldn’t move.

You better have corrected him.

 

**Benvolio:**

ofc, told him you hog sheets and sleep with

your legs way too spread out.

 

**Rosaline:**

fuck off you heavy breather

 

**Benvolio:**

<3333333333333

* * *

Benvolio slid up next to Rosaline at the bar. Her hair was plaited down the back in an attempt to keep it out of her face, though hairs were flying every which way. It had been a long day. The kind of long that she would usually work off in her bathtub with a glass of wine, but this had almost seemed better. Drinking a little too much at the seedy bar Mercutio loved because of its charm.

“I hope I don’t have to parent you tonight,” Benvolio said, signalling his arm out for the bartender.

She grumbled. “Please don’t test me right now.”

“I wasn’t…” His eyebrows pushed together as he looked between her and the bartender who was avoiding them. He sighed, giving up on the hopes of fresh alcohol and leaning his hip against the bar. “Are you okay?”

Was she okay? She wasn’t sure. She knew she was upset, but she didn’t know how quickly this was going to pass. And she really didn’t know if talking to Benvolio Montague was going to help anything. “I’ll be okay.”

His lips quirked up in the corner, that legendary smirk of his taking over his face. For a second it almost looked fond, and Rosaline shook away the feeling of fondness in her own chest. It was the alcohol and her weakened emotional state, that was _all._

“Does this mean you’ll finally do a shot with me?”

After taking a deep breath in and pushing it out, some of her loose hairs fluttering around her face, she nodded. “Just this once.”

His smile grew impossibly large. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t help but smile back, really, it _wasn’t._

* * *

(He ended up having to take care of her—his tolerance for shots was just so much _higher_ than her own—and in the morning she woke up to the smell of crackling bacon and fresh pancakes. They don’t talk about how he gave her a light kiss on the spot where her forehead met her hairline when she came up to him groaning, don’t talk about how she asked to come back to his place instead of him helping her home to her own.

A week later she returned the favor. Romeo and Mercutio had accidentally ruined a painting he had been working on for weeks, and when he showed up to her apartment with defeated shoulders and a bottle of vodka she simply opened the door wide enough for him to get through. He passed out on her couch, head in her lap. It was only because he was asleep that she pushed back his hair from his face, smiling down at him.

They don’t talk about it. But it shifted something, just slightly, and now Rosaline couldn’t deny that she _liked_ when Benvolio appeared. If only because she knew his smile when his guard was done, the things he complained about when he was drunk, the weight of his arm accidentally falling over her in bed.

She was screwed, she _knew_ that, but she would go to her grave before admitting that to anyone. )

* * *

**Benvolio:**

missed you tonight, guess

which one of our friends punched

someone and got us kicked out

of the bar?

 

**Rosaline:**

easy, probably Mercutio

 

**Benvolio:**

NOPE. PARIS.

I knew I liked something

about the guy

 

**Rosaline:**

fuck you, i listened to you

rant about his hair for like at

least an hour last week

 

**Benvolio:**

You can prove NOTHING.

Is your summer class finally over?

 

**Rosaline:**

Yeah, I’ll see you on the fourth

 

**Benvolio:**

thank god

* * *

Rosaline wouldn’t normally be seen in red and blue striped pants while wearing a shirt with a bedazzled start on it, but Juliet could get _scary_ when she wanted something. She was bizarrely passionate about the fourth, and Rosaline did not have it in her to fight.

“Nice shirt,” Benvolio said.

She narrowed her eyes, scanning him over. “Speak for yourself.”

His shirt had a giant american flag with a cartoon bald eagle holding two sparklers on it. She couldn’t even seem to imagine how he had found a shirt that strange.

“Romeo was vicious. He’s trying to impress Juliet by playing into the festivities.” Benvolio shrugged, taking a swig of beer.

Rosaline laughed. “You’d think he would realize that once you’re dating you can stop trying to impress her. Juliet is already mad about him, he doesn’t need to keep going to such lengths.”

He bit his lip as his eyes scanned her face. “Clearly, you’re not a romantic.”

“I’m into practicality,” she said. “You had to know that.”

“You never feel the least bit romantic?” He stepped closer, just a breath between their bodies.

The air was sticky, and Rosaline certainly didn’t feel her prettiest in the fourth of July clothing, but with his eyes on her she almost felt beautiful. His hand came up toward her face, ghosting over her cheek before tucking some hair behind her ear.

“Sometimes, maybe,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

A firework exploded behind them, and Rosaline whipped her body around to see the blues and reds cascade against the darkness of the night. Further down the beach, Mercutio hooped and hollered, Isabella on his back laughing maniacally. Romeo and Juliet were cuddled in the sand while Escalus, Livia, and Paris sat around the fire.

Another one exploded, and she turned back toward Benvolio. His skin lit up patriotically, beautifully. He looked too much like the art he crafted. _Sometimes, maybe_ , she thought. Stepping onto her toes, she dragged his face down toward hers.

It took him no time at all to respond to the kiss, deepening it. His hands grabbed onto her waist and tugged her closer, while she grasped her hands into his hair. She felt sort of breathless as she kissed him back, the two aligning so perfectly she was actually surprised.

“That was perfectly romantic,” he said between heavy breaths after they pulled back.

Rosaline stepped closer, resting her forehead against his chest. “Guess you bring it out in me.”

He threw his arm around her shoulders, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. “Wanna go check on our kids?”

“Sure, mom,” she said through a vicious smile, reaching up to leave a peck on his incredulous expression before turning away. “Catch me if you can.”

The grand finale of the fireworks exploded, one after another, and Rosaline laughed as she sprinted away from Benvolio. He caught up, grabbing her around the waist and whipping her around. His chest was reassuring against her back, and her friends laughed and jeered at them under a kaleidoscope of colors.

Maybe she didn’t mind being a parent to their friends, she decided. Not when Benvolio Montague was at her side.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to come at me on tumblr: [clarkescrusade](http://clarkescrusade.tumblr.com/)


End file.
